Overwhelmed
by croxley
Summary: Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

Rosalie had been a late-bloomer when it came to dating.

It wasn't until her sophomore year in college that she started dating. Her first relationship didn't last more than four months, but Alec was the perfect man to introduce her to the carnal side of life. But more importantly, he taught her to be confident in herself. When their relationship fizzled out, she was disappointed but her heart recovered quickly.

She went on a handful of dates for the remainder of her sophomore year, but no one really caught her eye. She met her next serious boyfriend when she got a job as a receptionist at an auto repair shop. His name was Paul and he knew every line to every _Lord of the Rings_ movie. They would watch them together, curled up on the couch, and he always smelled like peppermint and motor oil. It was strange and she liked it.

She could have loved him.

They broke up by Christmas.

She dated no one for the remainder of her junior year, but it didn't bother her. Senior year she met Victor. Of all of her boyfriends, he was the best kisser and the funniest, too. He had read every book she had and more, and it didn't terrify her when he talked about the two of them taking a graduation trip to Europe, seeing all the sights they'd both always imagined seeing.

The month before graduation, however, he took her home to meet his parents and two little sisters. He told her his plans for the future, how he wanted to be a stock market broker, and they could go to New York together. It had hurt her so much saying goodbye to him…more than anything had ever hurt her before.

She dated her colleague, Royce, a year later. He was an ass.

She'd dated Marcus next. He had been her longest relationship, yet. She had been with him for four years of her life and he had even proposed the weekend before she left for Forks. She had said no. He hadn't understood why.

No one ever would and that's why she'd always say no.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

It wasn't something she planned.

She wasn't sure she had any control over it whatsoever, actually. Perhaps it was her inexperience. That wasn't to say, of course, that she never drank. She kept wine chilled at all times and she was never short on some of the stronger stuff, too. But that was in California.

When she was in Forks for the holidays, her only home was with her parents and little brother, and the comforts of LA were a distant dream. In Forks, she couldn't leave work at eight, settle into her apartment with leftover take-out from her dinner with investors earlier that week and go over the her work for the next day with a glass of something that put her to sleep. In Forks, she was forced to endure her brother's talk of sports and her mother's questions about why she couldn't settle down with Marcus and wasn't Marcus such a nice man.

In Forks, she was reminded why she had left in the first place.

That was the reason she found herself sitting at a stool in some seedy bar. Well, that and the bombshell an eighteen year old girl had dropped in her lap three days earlier. Rosalie had the news confirmed and she couldn't deal with it — at least not in her house, surrounded by her well-meaning but ridiculously infuriating family.

Her last clear thought was that Emmett McCarty looked much the same as he had in high school. The same mop of dark curls, the same arrogant smirk, the same purposefully ignorant, drunken gleam in his eyes. They had talked, she was sure, and they had sniped at each other. There was a vague recollection of "You're, like, hot now."

When she had woken up with a pounding head and found herself naked in his bed, she had felt only immense frustration at herself for not leaving the night before. It wasn't a habit of hers to sleep with strangers, in fact, it had been years since her last one night stand. But she didn't really care.

She and Marcus were done for good, this only confirmed that, and she had bigger issues to deal with.

Issues like cancer.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

It all started three days ago in a department store.

Rosalie absent-mindedly tapped her foot to the department store music. Alice was still in the dressing room, trying on yet another dress. Rosalie had made the mistake of agreeing to go shopping with her old coworker and friend on the first full day of her short stay in Forks for the holidays, and it was the world's longest recorded shopping trip.

Alice had been ecstatic that Rosalie would be back in Washington for so long. She had driven from Sequim the day after Rosalie had flown into town, all shouts of glee and hugs and laughter and "You know what we should do? A girls' day out! It'll be so much fun, bestie!"

"Rosalie?"

Rosalie glanced over at the sound of her name. The voice didn't belong to Bella, and there was really no one else Rosalie wanted to see. Who would she have to brush off now? Maybe Alice would be done soon and they could make a quick getaway.

She didn't recognize the teenage girl standing beside a rack full of red dresses, but there was something eerily familiar about her light blonde hair, pulled back in a ponytail and the timid expression on her pale face. "You don't know who I am, do you?" the girl asked.

"Sorry," Rosalie shook her head, giving an apologetic smile, "no."

"We've met before," the girl said. "It was a long time ago. I didn't know who you were, then. But you knew who I was, didn't you? That's why you came to my house that day."

Rosalie frowned. "I…I really don't know what you're talking about."

The girl straightened suddenly, as if she decided she would simply let it rip. "My name is Claire," she said. "Claire Cullen." Rosalie's mind flashed back ten years ago, to the young girl watching a movie in the Cullen's living room — the girl who who was her sister but would never know.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Claire asked. She might've been nervous but Rosalie was too floored to notice.

"Hi," Rosalie said, inadvertently breathless.

Claire bit her lip. "Hi."

"You said you know who I am?" Rosalie asked, swallowing thickly. Claire nodded.

"You're my sister. My half-sister." They stared at one another like that as seconds, minutes passed. It had been a decade since she found out she was the result of her mother's brief affair with Carlisle Cullen. Rosalie had long since put the whole matter to bed. She was her dad's daughter and her biology didn't change that.

"How did you find out about me?" Rosalie asked. She had to ask something.

"I heard them talking about you," she answered. "My parents, I mean."

"Oh." She just overheard a conversation...and her whole life had changed. It was still better than finding out by a blood type experiment in high school. Rosalie wondered briefly what Mr. Cullen's relationship with Claire and Lauren was like.

"I had to find you," Claire said as she took a step towards Rosalie.

At the same moment, Rosalie suddenly heard Alice's voice, and by the tone of her voice and the way she gushed, Rosalie suspected her old friend to be on the phone with her fiancé. How would she explain Claire to Alice?

"Finding you is all I've thought about for weeks. I didn't have the courage to go to your house, but then I saw you in here and I couldn't stop myself. I had to talk to you. I had to — for me. And for him."

Rosalie didn't understand.

"Hey, there you are! I am so sorry I totally abandoned you like that, but as I was leaving the dressing room when my phone went off, and I haven't talked to Jasper all day, and I — oh!" Alice exclaimed, pausing as her eyes landed on Claire. Rosalie didn't glance at her friend.

"Him?" she asked Claire.

There was a sheen of tears in Claire's eyes and Rosalie realized that something had happened. There was a specific reason Claire's parents had been speaking of her, the reason her sister had sought her out — she should have known it would have to happen this way.

"My dad," Claire whispered. "Our dad."

"What?" Alice asked, gasping. Nobody answered her.

"Is he —?" Rosalie began. She didn't have to finish. She already knew.

"He's sick and he wants to see you."

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

Bella was pregnant.

It seemed so unfathomable to Rosalie how Bella had become who she was. Her face was flushed and glowing pleasantly, her hair tossed up on her head, and her stomach expanding under her shirt. She looked like she had the life every girl wanted to have when they were twelve years old.

Rosalie had never thought Bella would have that life. It had never even occurred to her that Bella would want that life. It certainly wasn't what Rosalie would get in life, and she didn't want it. She liked living by herself, liked the freedom it gave her. And Rosalie as a mother? _Please_.

But Rosalie smiled and nodded as Bella told stories about the pregnancy while Edward added in his two cents now and then. She only came back to Forks once a year, and she had to admit she would much rather spend a night eating dinner with Bella than another night with her parents and brother.

Of course, this dinner was a little awkward considering Emmett had also been invited. The last time Rosalie had seen him, she was leaving him sleeping soundly in his bed. He said nothing to her and she wondered if he even remembered. She certainly hoped not.

She got the distinct impression as Bella chatted with Emmett that this wasn't the first time he had eaten dinner with Edward and Bella. If she had to guess, she'd say Emmett probably spent more time in their home than his apartment across town.

Bella was putting leftover pierogi into a disposable container for Rosalie when she finally said something. "Do you think you're going to go see him?" Bella asked. She wasn't looking at Rosalie.

"Probably," Rosalie admitted, staring at the potted plant on the kitchen windowsill.

Bella pushed the container into Rosalie's hands. She smiled kindly. She said nothing but the disagreement was written in her face. Bella never said the things that would bother Rosalie. She didn't ask about Marcus, she didn't mention how little Rosalie visited her family or friends, and she wasn't going to give Rosalie her thoughts on the Cullen family.

But it was all on her face, just waiting for Rosalie to signal that Bella was free to give her blunt advice. Rosalie made no such signal, however. She disappeared into the bitter winter air of Forks with her leftovers in hand and a silent Bella watching her go.

She drove home, but didn't get out of the car.

She drove to the hospital, but didn't get out of the car.

She drove to that same little bar. She was three sheets to the wind when Emmett walked through the doors. He greeted her with a brief nod. "I'm a regular," he offered in explanation as he sat beside her.

"For the remainder of my stay in Forks," Rosalie told him sullenly, "I am, too."

He clinked his glass with hers. "Cheers."

She left before falling asleep this time, but he didn't try and stop her. She also remembered most of it this time. It didn't make a difference.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

There were only a few people she could talk to about it. She tried them all in the course of one day.

"My dad is dying," she told her mom in the morning.

"What?" her mom asked, her brows pulling together in confusion as she paused over the batch of pancakes she was making. It's a Saturday morning, still fairly early, and the men of the house were still asleep.

"My biological father," she said. "He's sick. He has cancer."

Dumbfounded, her mom stared at her. "Rosie," she began softly.

"You didn't think I'd find out, did you?" she asked.

With a trembling hand, Rosalie's mom put down the cup of batter she had been about to pour onto the sizzling pan. "Honestly, sweetheart? I had hoped you wouldn't. You're our daughter."

"But I'm someone else's daughter, too," Rosalie said, not letting her gaze waver as she stared at her mother.

Her mother's eyes hardened. "No. You're my daughter. You're your father's daughter. You're not a Cullen. You're a Hale."

There was something so carnally satisfying about hearing her mother say that. She finally let her posture sag, and her mother obviously noticed. She smiled softly. Maybe this sort of conversation was best left short and sweet. Her mind flickered to her brief encounter with her biological father who was mild-mannered, answered her questions, but had wanted to keep things as they were. She thought he had it right — he had his family and she had her family. She had made peace with the decision a decade ago.

"Does that mean I shouldn't go see him?" she asked. "Claire Cullen, my half-sister, she sought me out. She told me Mr. Cullen wants to see me. That he's dying and wants to see me." She said it all clinically, because there was no other way for her to get the words out.

"That's really a decision for you to make," her mom said. She turned back to her pancakes. "Your father and I will support whatever choice you make." Rosalie's heart sank a little. Why couldn't her mother just tell her the answer to the problem?

That afternoon, she tried Bella.

Edward was in the living room, watching a game of some sort on TV. If he was listening, she didn't really care. So Rosalie gave in and let Bella dole out advice. "It's really up to you," Bella began slowly. Rosalie waited. "But, if you want my opinion...no, don't go see him. You don't owe him anything. If he hasn't ever wanted to see you before, why should he get to now?"

That all made sense. But Rosalie had to argue. She would have argued even if Bella bad suggested the opposite. She would always argue. It was easier than making a choice. "We mutually agreed to have no further contact. Maybe he regretted it after the fact, but respected the agreement. Except now he's dying, so shouldn't I give him a chance?"

"You're not his daughter, Rosalie. Lauren and Claire Cullen are his daughters."

"I'm sorry," said Edward, apparently deciding to join the conversation, "are you, Bella Masen, really saying that a dying man could find comfort in Lauren Cullen? The she-devil? The girl that bullied both of you for years?" Bella glared at him.

"If my dad had another daughter," Rosalie said, "and he's dying wish was to see her, I would be furious if she refused him that." There. That was a valid point.

"But he wouldn't want to see a stranger," Bella argued. "He would want to see you, because you're his daughter."

"Is it really that simple?"

"It should be," said Bella.

"But you of all people know things aren't as simple as it should be," Rosalie pointed out. "Besides — maybe I should just see him because it would be the nice thing to do. What do I have to lose? Even if I'm not really a daughter to him, even if I owe him nothing, what would it cost me to pay him a pity visit?"

Bella considered her for a moment. "If it were that easy," she said slowly, "you would have already gone to see him."

"What if — what if Charlie wasn't your dad?" Rosalie asked, trying a new angle. Maybe if she asked every question she could and Bella managed to combat every one, it would allow her to take Bella's advice without hesitating. "What if it was Phil? What if he was dying and he wanted to see you?"

"Whether biology said it or not," Bella told her sharply, "Charlie Swan would be my father. He will always be my father. I couldn't care less about Phil, and I would not see him if he were sick. The one who takes care of you, who raises you, who sticks by you — that's the one you go see. And if you're about to bring up Renee, a woman who left her family to go gallivanting around the world with a ballplayer, then let me tell you right now that I wouldn't. She wouldn't deserve it."

"Sweetie, you're getting worked up," Edward said conversationally, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth without taking his eyes off the television screen. Bella made a face at his back and Rosalie just barely saw the upturn of his lips, as if he knew precisely what Bella was doing.

"So I shouldn't go see him?"

"I wouldn't." Bella crossed the room to sit beside Edward, grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl in his lap. "Of course, this is up to you." That was the problem.

That night, she told Emmett, "My biological father is dying."

One of his eyes popped open. "What?"

"Carlisle Cullen."

"No shit!" He scrambled to sit upright in the bed. She could feel is eyes on her face, but she continued to stare at the barren wall of his apartment and the awful wallpaper. She hoped he hadn't picked that out himself.

"Yeah. Apparently, they had a brief lapse in judgment that resulted in me. My dad forgave my mom and decided to raise me as his own, while Carlisle Cullen returned to his pregnant wife." It was quiet.

"You know what this means?" he finally asked slowly. "I've banged sisters. Now I can cross that off my bucket list!" She was so surprised she glanced over at him.

"Technically, we're half-sisters," she said, slightly amused despite herself.

He grinned. "Dude, don't ruin this for me!" Her smile faded a little as her mind returned to the problem at him.

"Did you ever meet Mr. Cullen?" she asked him. It was ridiculously surreal that she was really having this conversation in bed with Emmett McCarty, who meant absolutely nothing to her but who she was sleeping with on her short stint back in Forks. But she was.

"Lauren's dad? I only saw him around once or twice. He wore a lot of tweed and didn't like my jokes." Rosalie snorted.

"He has terminal cancer," she said. "And he wants to see me."

"That's heavy," Emmett said wisely. Rosalie snorted again against her will.

She glanced at her hands. "Do you think I should go see him?"

He didn't answer for a while. When he finally looked back at him, his face was serious.

"It's messed up," he said softly. He swallowed, and she watched his Adam's apple bob. "Family. It's messed up. Nobody really has it easy. Bella's mom ran out on her and Edward's dad is in prison and I . . ." She knew how messed up his family was. He didn't have to say it. "But it's still family, you know? It might suck ass, but sometimes you gotta, you know?" He looked at her as if imploring her to understand.

"So you think I should," she said.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Whatever. I'm shit at this stuff." He climbed out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom.

It was a strange day on Earth when she decided, of all the advice to take, she'd listen to Emmett.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

It was the worst Christmas Eve of her life.

She found their number in an old phone book she had found. She dialed it halfway and hung up. She dialed it all the way and hung up after one ring. She dialed it again and then clutched it to her ear with white knuckles. She was about to hang up after the third ring when someone answered.

"Hello?"

It was an older woman. It was Mrs. Cullen. It had to be. She cleared her throat. "Is — is Claire there?" she asked.

"Oh, yes, one moment, please," she told her, and Rosalie heard her yell for Claire.

When Claire came on a moment later, Rosalie almost hung up again. But she forced herself to say, "It's Rosalie." Claire was quiet for a long time.

"I'm so glad you called," she finally said. "I'm really, really glad."

"Listen, I've thought about it and I'll come to the hospital to see your dad."

"Our dad."

"Don't," Rosalie said quickly, forcing herself to stay calm. "Don't do that, not if you want this to work." There was a pregnant pause.

"Okay," Claire agreed quietly. "When do you want to come?"

"How's this afternoon?" she suggested. If she made a later date, she would have too much time to change her mind. The sooner she saw him, the better. She had to get it over with. "Maybe in a few hours?"

"That sounds good. Do you want to meet me at the hospital or-?"

"Yes. I'll meet you at the front entrance. two o'clock?" The hand that wasn't holding her phone was trembling so much that she slipped it under her legs, trying to still it and her own rapidly beating heart. She shouldn't be this worked up. She was just doing what she should — paying a visit to a dying man, as was his last wish.

"Yeah, I'll be there. Thank you, Rosalie. Thank you so much for doing this." Her voice broke a little, and Rosalie could hear the tears in it. "You have no idea how much-"

"Don't worry about it," Rosalie interrupted. "I'll see you later." She hung up before Claire could say more. She sank against the fridge of her tiny kitchen, glad that her whole family was at a family friend's Christmas potluck. She let herself slide down to the floor, cradling the phone in her hands.

She took a long, hot shower, watched most of Home Alone on TV, ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and paced her room a little. She thought about calling Bella and asking for advice on what to say or how to act. She reconsidered. Bella was no expert and surely she had something better to do with her day. She was probably with Edward, Charlie, and Sue's family celebrating the last Christmas before the baby was born.

She parked in the hospital parking lot just two minutes shy of two. But she couldn't make herself go in. She had a panic attack or something. What did a panic attack entail, anyway? Before she knew what she was doing, she was calling Edward. He didn't ask any questions when she asked for Emmett's number.

She wasn't sure why she wanted to call Emmett. But he gave her the number and she called him.

"It's Rosalie," she greeted for the second time that day. "I'm at the hospital and I…I can't go in there by myself. I can't."

It was two forty-one when he pulled into the parking lot, and it was amazing she didn't throw herself at him crying hysterically. If she didn't have such a handle on her emotions, such a practiced ability to grit her teeth and pretend the world spun a normal routine, she probably would have.

"Want to know something kind of weird?" Emmett asked as they walked towards the hospital. It was the first thing either said.

"What?" she asked, inadvertently curling her fist at the thought of what awaited her inside.

"I totally hate hospitals," he said. She glanced over at him, frowning. "It's true." He nodded. "They're freaky."

"I don't know if I'd call that weird," she said. "I think most people hate hospitals."

He shrugged. "I thought hospitals were, like, places of healing and shit like that. And who doesn't like to be healed?"

"You can only be healed if you're wounded," Rosalie said. "We're not wounded. We're broken." The words slipped out before she could stop them. But they were true.

"I guess that explains it, then," he said, and the automatic hospital doors slid open for them. Rosalie saw Claire immediately, and she felt a little guilty at the dejected look on the girl's face. When Claire caught sight of Rosalie, however, her face lit up.

"You came!" she said, approaching them. "I was beginning to think you had changed your mind." Her relief was clear.

"Yeah, sorry about that. We got held up."

"We?" It was only then that Claire noticed Emmett. "Emmett?" she said, her distaste clear.

"Cierra, right?" said Emmett. "I remember you!" He looked proud of that fact.

"I remember you, too," Claire said, her eyes flickering between Emmett and Rosalie with a little confusion, "and it's Claire, not Cierra." Rosalie was not surprised to find that Claire was not a fan of Emmett McCarty.

"Right. My bad." He smiled with his best attempt at charm, and Rosalie shook her head at how utterly un-charming he was.

"Well, I guess…we need to get you two some visitor passes and then he's up on the fifth floor." They walked to the check-in counter together, and Rosalie felt her legs grow heavier with each step. Somehow she made it to the counter, though, and she signed her name in and received a visitor's pass.

They were in the elevator when Emmett asked conversationally, "So, where's Lauren?"

Claire actually winced. Rosalie frowned. "Um, Lauren's out of town. She's in, ah, Colorado. Denver, I think."

"Colorado?" Rosalie repeated, a little surprised. If Mr. Cullen was really dying, what the hell was Lauren doing in Colorado?

Claire gave an uncomfortable shrug. "She's living there now, and she came back for a little while when he was first diagnosed, but she...My parents decided to tell her the truth about, well, you know. And she's really busy and it's just...it's complicated." She stared at the glowing elevator buttons.

Rosalie nodded. It sounded like Lauren was Lauren.

The fifth floor seemed particularly dreadful to Rosalie. And it got ten times worse when she saw Mrs. Cullen stand, her eyes going wide and a hesitant smile flickering to life on her face when she saw Rosalie.

Claire led the way down the hall to her mother. "Hey Mom," she greeted, kissing her on the cheek. "Sorry we're late."

"It's no problem," Mrs. Cullen assured, her eyes not leaving Rosalie. "It's so good of you to come," she said. She didn't seem to have time or attention to notice Emmett, not when all her energy was on Rosalie.

"Yeah," Rosalie said. "So, how's Mr. Cullen?"

"Oh, he's…he's doing pretty well today. He's just in here," she nodded at the door a few feet away. "Why don't we go in?" She smiled, and Rosalie nodded stiffly. She could feel Claire's eyes on her face, but she didn't look at her little sister.

It was a small room, but it was filled to the brim with potted plants and an array of cards and even a few colorful pillows and a teddy bear and balloons, as if to liven up the room. Sitting up on the bed was a small man with balding blond hair and light blue eyes. He started to say something to his wife only to stop when he saw Rosalie.

"Rosalie came to visit, Daddy," Claire said, coming to stand beside her dad and putting her hand on his shoulder. She clearly loved her father.

"T-thank you for coming, Rosalie," Mr. Cullen said quietly, his eyes seeming to feast on Rosalie's face. She really needed these people to stop thanking her. The next one who did was getting sucker-punched.

She only nodded. What was there to say?

"Why don't we give you two some time alone?" Mrs. Cullen suggested suddenly, splitting the thickening silence. She held her hand out for Claire, who obediently left her father's side, giving Rosalie an encouraging smile. Emmett followed after them, and Rosalie vaguely heard Mrs. Cullen say something in confusion to Emmett.

Her eyes never left her biological father's left shoulder.

"You're a beautiful young woman," Mr. Cullen said.

"Thanks," Rosalie answered. It was quiet. She dared to look at his face. He didn't look too sick, but he seemed inconceivably small in that bed.

"What — what do you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I'm a finance analyst at a firm in LA."

"Oh? Well, that's impressive. What do you do in your spare time?"

"I like to read." Was there more? She had never been very good at listing off her hobbies and interests and favorite things.

"Do you have any favorites?" Rosalie shrugged again. "I've always liked Ernest Hemingway," he went on.

"The Sun Also Rises is pretty good," Rosalie agreed.

"Rosalie," he began slowly, "I want you to know that keeping my distance from you, it was the hardest thing I-"

"We don't have to talk about it," Rosalie interrupted. She met his gaze. It was a mistake. "Actually, I, um, I have to go. I meant to get here earlier, but I have to — I have to go. It was nice to see you."

"Rosalie-"

"Have a good Christmas, Mr. Cullen."

She sped from the room like nobody's business. Mrs. Cullen stood up from a chair stationed outside the room, confusion spreading in a frown across her face as her mouth opened to say something. Rosalie passed her without a word and continued down the hall, her eyes intent on the elevator. Claire called out to her. Rosalie pretended not to hear.

She punched the down button and the elevator doors mercifully opened immediately. She ran in, but before the doors could close behind her, a hand stopped them. Emmett stepped in. She didn't look at him. She could barely breath. What was she doing here? These people weren't her family. Hadn't her mother made that clear? And Bella, too?

She was doing a good deed, sure, but it wasn't her responsibility and-

"I just couldn't," she breathed.

"I know," Emmett murmured. He reached out a hand hesitantly to touch her shoulder. He seemed to think better of it and dropped his arm, leaning back against the elevator. She wiped at the stupid tears in her eyes. "So," Emmett said as the doors opened again, releasing them onto the first floor and soon-to-be sweet freedom. "How 'bout them Seahawks?"

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

Rosalie loved her family.

She did. Really. Deep, deep down, in the depths of her heart, she loved them. She might not understand them or have anything in common with them, but she loved them. Her father built her shelf after shelf for her books as she grew up, her mother comforted when she was bullied during her school years, and her brother, well, that was more the sort of relationship best left unanalyzed.

The fact of the matter, really, was that if she were in a burning building, she wouldn't save strangers. She would save her family. Maybe that was wrong. But it was the truth. And if that wasn't love, what was?

She didn't know much about the concept of family, besides the idea that you were supposed to love them. She knew Bella thought being someone's family meant being loyal to that person, no matter what. She knew Alice believed family were the people you loved because you were supposed to. She knew that Tanya, her best friend in California, believed family was something you put up with until you were old enough to run away and stay away.

The semantics of it all, the details and the questions and the eternal truths, wouldn't really concern her — wouldn't even matter — if everything weren't so messed up. But what did family mean when blood lines were confused and some of your family wasn't your family and some of your family were strangers and...it was just too confusing.

Most of the time Rosalie didn't think about it. But how could she avoid it now?

She spent Christmas morning opening presents with her parents and brother, then met Bella, Seth, and Leah for a brunch with their recently married parents, and Rosalie was beyond relieved to see that Edward had brought Emmett along, too. At least Rosalie wouldn't be the only one out of place. He waved in the most dorky way when he saw her, and she waved back half-heartedly, smiling despite herself.

Bella glanced back and forth between them. She smirked. Rosalie glared. Emmett trotted over to them, reaching out to pat Bella's stomach. "You'll have a bloody stump if you even try," Bella said. Emmett didn't seem intimidated.

"Your threats don't work on me, Thumbelina," he said. Bella did not look amused.

When Rosalie finally managed to escape the family madness, she wasn't alone for long. Bella slowly lowered herself to sit beside Rosalie on the steps of the back porch. "You went to see him, didn't you?" Bella asked softly.

Rosalie nodded. "It didn't go well." It was quiet. "I hate Christmas," she finally said.

"There's no Santa Claus?" Bella asked knowingly. Rosalie glanced at her, and she could see past bitterness in Bella's eyes. However happy Bella's life may be now, her past would always be there. Rosalie found a kind of sick solidarity in that.

"Doesn't look like it," Rosalie replied. It was quiet for a long time.

"For what it's worth," Bella finally said, "I was wrong. You were right to go see him. It was the right thing to do. Your situation isn't the same as mine." She paused. "I've been thinking, and maybe...maybe it doesn't have to be either or."

"What?" Rosalie asked, frowning slightly.

"What happened with your parents and the Cullens and you...They tried to do what they thought was best. Nobody is the villain. Maybe you don't have to choose one family over the other. Maybe all this means is that you get two families."

Rosalie had never thought about it like that. "This is sure an abrupt turnaround," she finally said. It was better to turn the focus on Bella. "What changed your mind?" She raised an eyebrow at Bella, who smiled, staring at her lap for a moment and then meeting Rosalie's gaze sheepishly.

"I've just been thinking about everything you're going through, and with all the changes that have happened in my life lately. The other night, Edward said — he just said something that made me think. You're given a family. But you get to choose family, too, if you want."

Rosalie nodded. She didn't really know what to say.

Bella snorted suddenly. "Listen to me. I think I'm spending too much time with Edward. He's such a bad influence on me. I'm so much less badass these days."

Rosalie laughed aloud, and she let Bella coax her back inside. If she could choose her own family, could she choose Bella?

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

She was doing some work in her old bedroom. If her mother caught her, she would be disappointed that Rosalie just had to work even on her vacation, despite the fact that Christmas was two days ago and the only reason Rosalie was still in Forks was because her mother had tricked her into not buying a ticket until the day after New Year's.

The doorbell rang, and Rosalie assumed it belonged to one of Riley's numerous friends. The boy was way too popular for his own good — he was an actual jock. Rosalie had been complaining to Emmett the night before, and he had agreed that jocks were awful.

He was so full of it sometimes.

"Rosie?" Her mom popped her in the door. "You have a visitor." There was something in her tone. Rosalie looked up and found herself face to face with a timid Claire. "I'll just let you two talk." Her mom was gone, shutting the door behind her.

"Hey," Claire greeted, shifting from one foot to another.

"Hi," Rosalie said, slowly closing her laptop. "Look, if this is about the other day — I'm sorry I had to go so soon, but I..." She didn't really have an excuse.

"It's okay," Claire assured. "I can't even imagine what I'd be doing if I were in your shoes. My parents are my parents, you know? It'd be weird to imagine it another way." Rosalie nodded. Slowly, timidly, Claire sat on the edge of her bed.

"It must be hard," Rosalie said, trying to be sympathetic. She was so bad at this sort of thing — there was a reason she avoided it as best she could. "I mean, with your dad being sick and everything." She paused. "High school's hard enough, right?" She laughed awkwardly, inwardly cursing herself.

"You could say that," Claire agreed, smiling softly. "I mean, I have all these plans. I got into USC, and I was going to study abroad for a semester in Rome. I want to learn Italian and I...I," she blushed suddenly, looking down. "I had all these plans. But I don't know if I can leave my dad when he's so sick."

Rosalie nodded. "This might sound like a line," she said, "but your dad probably wants you to go. Dad's are like that." Claire gave half a smile.

"He says that, too. But with Lauren — she couldn't handle it. She just left. She's stopped taking my parents' calls and...I love her and everything, because she's my sister, but she's just run away and that's not what you're supposed to do with family." She bit her lip, and Rosalie knew she was prepping herself to say something more.

"See, the reason I came here today is to apologize. I'm sorry I jumped you in a department store and put all this on you. I said it was for my dad, but it wasn't, really. It was for me. I wanted a sister, and Lauren isn't here, and I thought maybe you could...I don't know. It was stupid." She stood up. "But I just wanted to thank you for coming to see him. It meant a lot."

"Yeah. Sure." Rosalie gave a small smile.

"I guess I'll just...I'll see you."

"Right," Rosalie said. "See you."

Claire looked as if she might say something else, but she seemed to think better of it, and she left. Rosalie never did get back to work; she couldn't stop thinking about Claire's short, sudden visit. She got the idea later in the day, and it was all executed easily enough. She called Bella, explained what she needed, and Bella was more than willing to ask her father for help. "But don't expect too much," Bella warned.

Rosalie waved off her mother's questions, promising to be back the next day, and then took a direct flight from Seattle to the Denver International Airport. With the information Chief Swan had found in hand, Rosalie had the taxi drive her a few miles into the city from the airport, and before she knew it, she was there, facing Lauren. "Oh, my God." Lauren said, standing in her condo door with a look of confusion and slight repulsion on her face. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to do what your family won't," Rosalie said, crossing her arms determinedly over her chest.

"Oh, is that so? And what is that, exactly?" Lauren leaned against her door frame, looking for all the world like the brat Rosalie had spent her childhood despising. She didn't understand where Lauren came from. She was nothing like the Cullens, not as far as Rosalie could tell.

"Bring you back to Forks. What are you doing, Lauren? Running away? Avoiding it? You're going to regret it. If you don't say goodbye to your dad, if you're here when he dies —"

"Okay, stop. This is so not your business." Lauren started to shut the door. Rosalie stuck a hand out and stopped her.

"Yes, it is. It's my family, too."

Something flickered across Lauren's face. "He told you, huh?" she asked, pursing her lips.

"Actually, I found out in high school." Lauren didn't say anything. "Look, I don't like you. I never will. But your family are good people. And you need to go home and be with them now and help them."

"If you care so much," Lauren said, her lip curling, "why don't you? He's your father, too."

Rosalie really wanted to hit her. "I'm not who they need. I'm not the one who your father wants to say goodbye to. I'm not the one your mom needs comfort from. And your sister — she needs a sister. I can't be that person." She tried to hold in her frustration. "I can't visit them and help them through this. And it's not my job to do so. It's yours. You're the daughter he raised and took care of and supported. You're the daughter who needs to be there to comfort them and to say goodbye. You. Can't you just do this one good thing for them? Can't you?"

Rosalie half expected Lauren to shut the door in her face again. It didn't matter if she did. Rosalie wasn't leaving until she got what she wanted. But Lauren didn't try and shut the door. Her shoulders sunk a little. "It's not that easy," she said.

"Nobody said it was easy," Rosalie replied, not batting an eyelash.

Lauren glanced off and then looked back at Rosalie. "My dad — he's, like, the only person who's ever really loved me for me. He doesn't care that I'm not, like, a total nerd freak like Claire, and he's not disappointed in me the way my mom is, and he..." She stopped, as if considering who she was talking to. "I'm just not going to watch him die, okay? So go back to whatever loser hole you crawled out of." She glared. Her brief moment of humanity was gone.

Rosalie didn't care. "If he's the only one who's ever really loved you, maybe you should show him that he wasn't wrong to. Maybe you should prove that you're just as good as Claire. Maybe you should prove for one moment that you're not a heinous bitch." She might have gotten a tad harsh at the end.

"Whatever," Lauren snapped, and she slammed the door too quickly for Rosalie to stop her. Rosalie sighed, bent down, and slipped the plane ticket under the door. She left. She was betting on a long shot, she knew, but it was all she could do.

When she boarded the plane the next day, it was to see Lauren yelling at the flight attendant about the way he was handling her suitcase. Rosalie didn't let Lauren see her smile as she passed by, neither saying a word to the other.

When she was back in Forks, she dug up her once beloved and much read copy of Lord of the Flies, and attached a small note — typed, because she had terrible handwriting, and dropped it off at the front desk of the hospital.

 _Claire,_

 _Sorry I couldn't stay longer. I'm on my way back to Los Angeles in a few days. This was one of my favorite books when I was in high school. If you haven't read it, you definitely should. When you get to USC, look me up. It'll be nice to have family close by._

 _Best, Rosalie._

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

Rosalie blinked at Emmett owlishly for a moment.

"What?" she finally asked.

"I said, wanna go out tonight?" he repeated. He didn't seem fazed by her surprise.

"You mean," she said slowly, "on a date?"

He nodded. "Don't worry, though," he assured, "we can totally have sex afterwards, 'cause that's awesome." Rosalie stared at him.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"As a heart attack," he said.

Rosalie narrowed her eyes. "Did Bella tell you to take me on a date?"

"What? Like I couldn't come up with that on my own?" He scoffed. "It's like you only like me because I'm a sex god." Rosalie continued to stare. "If you must know," he finally said, "Edward asked if we had actually gone out, and then said if I actually liked you, I should take you out, like, to some place nice and stuff. So, what do you say? Pick you up at seven?"

This was her last night in Forks. "Sure," she agreed. What the hell, right? "Seven."

Rosalie wasn't sure what surprised her most about that night. It was a complete toss up between Emmett arriving on time, Emmett wearing a tie, Emmett actually knowing what was happening in the political world, and Emmett suggesting they walk along the beach after dinner.

Rosalie took her shoes off and walked barefoot in the sand. She hadn't been out on a beach since college, and it was a little strange.

"You okay over there?" Emmett asked. "You've gone quiet."

"Can you not stand silence for five minutes?" she replied.

"I can," he argued. "But why would I want to?"

She shrugged. "I was just, I don't know, thinking." He nodded sagely. She smiled. "Let's sit," she suggested suddenly. She didn't want to walk any further and have to hike back to Emmett's car in the dark.

"So how am I doing?" he asked as he plopped down on the sand beside her. "Oh, wait, hold on — stand up." Frowning, she stood, brushing sand off her skirt. He took off his jacket and spread it out. "Okay. Now sit." He grinned up at her.

"That's very gentlemanly of you," Rosalie said, biting back a full-fledged smirk as she sat down.

"I try," Emmett replied gallantly.

"Well, you're very impressive," Rosalie assured, only teasing a little.

"Yeah. This is actually the first legitimate date I've been on in years."

Rosalie glanced at him. "Seriously?"

He bobbed his head. "What can I say? The ladies just want to jump me."

She shook her head at him before she leaned her head on his shoulder, and the water splashed forward and sunk her ankles into the sand. The conversation that followed was soft and easy. She explained the situation with the Cullens, about Mr. Cullen calling just to talk and how she had agreed to stop by the hospital before her flight tomorrow, and then the conversation lulled naturally. Her eyes closed and she was sure this was the most comfortable she'd ever been in her life.

•••

A/N: Thanks for reading!


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

 **Overwhelmed**

Rosalie only comes back to Forks — a place that only holds bad memories — once a year. This year she finds herself with an unlikely companion, facing a truth she thought she had buried years ago.

•••

When Rosalie was thirty-two years old, she married Emmett McCarty. It started with a phone call.

"I've been thinking," he said as she stretched out on the couch, the phone held between her head and shoulder as she dug a fork into her microwave dinner. This had become something of a weekly ritual between her and Emmett, talking on the phone. They had been doing it for most of the six months since her return from Christmas vacation in Forks. She would call when she got off work at night, and they would talk as she ate dinner.

"About?" she prompted, settling down against the arm pillow.

"Moving," he said. "I think Forks has lost it's shiny veneer for me."

She snorted. "It's about time."

"Where do you think I should move?" he asked. "Singapore? London? Australia? I don't know much about the ol' outback," he momentarily took on a bastardized Australian accent, "but they've got to have killer waves, right?"

"Probably," she said. "Although, personally, I think in Singapore you would fit right in. I hear it's very popular among the blonde bimbos of the inherited wealth variety."

"Excellent!" She could imagine him pumping a fist in the air, and she smiled at the thought, amused. "And if Singapore doesn't work out," he said, "I could set up shop in the City of Angels."

She paused in her dinner, her fork halfway to her mouth. "LA?"

"Is it not the City of Angels? Damn."

"No, it's the City of Angels." She set her fork down. "You know," she said slowly, "if you came here, I might find the time to show you around." She reached for her wine glass on the nearby table.

She could hear the grin in his voice. "That's what I like to hear."

Five years later, they got married. After the ceremony, when Rosalie finally managed to convince Bella that Emmett hadn't proposed because he knocked Rosalie up, Rosalie watched as Edward, sighing dramatically, gave Bella a twenty dollar bill.

"I told you so," said Bella smugly, pulling her mini-me and Rosalie's flower girl into her lap and adjusting the squirming little girl's tiny flower crown. Rosalie only rolled her eyes.

Emmett hadn't proposed because she was pregnant.

But she was now.

She'd tell Bella later.

•••

A/N: This is the end. Thanks for reading!


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